


trust me, i adore you

by writevale



Series: and here you are making gold out of it [6]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Domestic fluff at its finest, M/M, Sharing Clothes, That's it, cottage fluff, did i mention that this is fluff?, martin owns dungarees, post 159, pre 160, that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:28:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23294761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writevale/pseuds/writevale
Summary: Jon looks like he can't quite believe what he has in his hands. 'Dungarees.' He says to himself. Then, 'Put them on.'
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Series: and here you are making gold out of it [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1657546
Comments: 52
Kudos: 308





	trust me, i adore you

**Author's Note:**

> happy lockdown, friends!

Martin's dreams are still dense, fog-filled places. He wanders there all night, the cold seeping through the thin cotton of his clothes, into his bones. He calls out for Jon but every deep inhale stings like he has inhaled needles of ice and, every time, it always becomes too easy to accept that Jon isn't coming. That he is on his own.

'Ah!' Martin gasps as the hot press of tea-warmed lips on his forehead pulls him from sleep. He blinks rapidly and the blurry image of Jon's face hovers into view. Relief sinks into his stomach like the reverse of slipping into a warm bath. Jon's lopsided smile heats him from the inside out and it's exactly what he needs to see.

'Morning.' The Archivist gestures for Martin to shuffle up the bed and presses a mug into his hands. He tuts. 'Where did you put your glasses last night?'

'Where did _you_ put my glasses last night?' Martin counters, blowing gently at the puff of steam from his mug. Jon huffs and Martin watches his rough outline disappear though the bedroom door. He returns triumphant and Martin pulls him close to kiss the high-definition smirk from his lips. Jon settles onto the side of the bed, already dressed. He's put his hair up but a few strands have fallen loose around his face and at the back. Martin wonders if he'll be able to persuade him to sit between his knees again and do his hair later. That had been nice.

'So,' Jon interrupts his daydream, 'Are you planning on getting out of bed today?'

Martin grins. 'If I must.' Jon's hand finds Martin's calf through the quilt and squeezes. 'Pick me some clothes out?'

'What?' Jon eyes him suspiciously then transfers that look to the wardrobe. Unlike Martin, the wardrobe doesn't smile.

'I want to see what you'd pick.'

'Hm.' Jon picks at the quilt, 'This feels like a trick.'

'It's not a trick.' Martin laughs, 'I'm just interested.'

Jon stands in a sudden movement, startling a ' _Hey! Watch my tea!'_ and starts by taking a purposeful step to the drawers. The drawer rumbles as he pulls it open. He meets Martin's eyes as he rummages with one hand, pulling out a pair of boxers at random. Underlining the point that he really doesn't care about Martin's undergarments.

'Pants?'

'Pants.'

'Boooo.' Martin jokes, admiring the way Jon's face glows so prettily when he blushes.

'It's your choice whether or not you wear them.' Jon turns his attention to the wardrobe instead of Martin's shaking shoulders. He opens the doors and reaches out to brush the tips of his fingers across the hanging clothes. Martin packed a lot of woollen jumpers, all autumnal shades that bring out the flecks of amber in his eyes. He knows which one Jon is going to pick before his hand stalls at it. It's an earthy shade of maroon, more chestnut that wine, and Martin knows that Jon loves the way that it often falls to one side revealing the pale line of a collarbone. He smirks as the heavy-knit is thrown out on the bed.

'Interesting.' Martin says and sips his tea. Jon coughs.

' _Martin_.'

'What?!' He giggles, 'I just knew you were going to pick that one, that's all.' Jon shrugs at this, a guilty smile spreading across his face. He pulls out each of Martin's hanging trousers in turn, pursing his lips in thought and occasionally turning back to the jumper on the bed to compare the colours. He doesn't seem satisfied.

'Did you say you'd unpacked everything?' He asks, dropping into a squat to inspect the pile of relatively neatly folded clothes at the bottom of the wardrobe. 'Aha.' He adds, like a detective stumbling on a great clue. 'Think you can hide your trousers from me, Martin?'

'No, sir.'

Jon looks up and him and Martin grins around the rim of his mug. He loves this: the pair of them having all the time in the world to joke around and try to recover from - well, everything. A greedy, naive part of himself would be perfectly content if it were to last forever.

'What on Earth?' Jon says as he pulls at the hem of a black pair of cords and the material just keeps coming, ending with a pair of loops that tie onto the rest of the fabric at the front. From the floor, he lets out a loud bark of surprised laughter.

'What?' A coil of apprehensive sneaks into Martin's stomach. Jon stands, graceful still despite the frankly absurd amount of trauma his body has been through in the past year.

'Dungarees.' Jon holds up his pair of dungarees. Martin can't remember the last time he even thought about wearing them. He thinks he'd worn them to the pub once with Tim and Sasha, way back when. A guy at the bar had asked him when his train back to Brighton was and Martin had returned to their table with an ugly flush and a refusal to share with the others what had been said. Sasha told him he looked cute, anyway. Sasha always did.

'Correct.'

' _Dungarees.'_

'Ye-es?'

Jon looks at him, face tight with barely restrained amusement, 'Are you _three_?'

'Um, rude?'

Jon looks like he can't quite believe what he has in his hands. 'Dungarees.' He says to himself. Then, 'Put them on.' 

'No!' Martin clutches his mug, an indignant pink splash across his cheeks.

'Why not?' Jon lays them next to the jumper. 'I'll find you some socks.'

'Well obviously I'm not wearing them now you've taken the piss.' He's aware of how childish he sounds. Jon laughs anyway. 'They're really comfy, actually.' He huffs. 'And, Sasha said I looked cute in them.'

'Wear them then!'

'Nope.'

'Martin.'

'Nu-huh. You'll never know.' Jon eyes are glittering with that rare mischief Martin loves to see. Martin's are hard as stone. 'Pick something else.' Jon strokes his hand down the soft cord material of the dungarees. Martin reckons it would feel quite nice if he did that while he was wearing them. Shame. 'Pick something else.'

******

He'd warned Jon that he was planning on taking a long walk that morning but he's still surprised at the time as he checks his watch on the slow amble back down the path to the cottage. Time has a habit of slipping away from him when he's out on the hills. Like the wind chases it through the copper strands of his hair, whistling down into the valley below. The sun had made a rare appearance today and Martin had spent a long moment just standing in its glow, feeling his delicate skin start to burn but not finding it in him to care.

The cottage is quiet as he swings the door open. Almost too quiet. He's just toed his shoes off when a frisson of fear shoots down to his stomach and he steps quickly into the living room, body tense and ready to jump at the slightest provocation. The tension slips out of him in a rush of breath as he finds the source of the silence curled up in a ball on the couch. Fast asleep. One of Jon's legs pokes out of the ragged blanket, a greying sock, a hairy ankle, a -

Martin squints.

If he's not mistaken, the material of Jon's trousers looks suspiciously like the dungarees Jon dug out the other day. Soft, black and rolled up so he doesn't trip up over the length of them. Martin takes a quiet step towards the head of the couch and _yes_! He can see the black strap hugging Jon's shoulder over his faded band t-shirt. _That cheeky -_

He can't decide whether to wake Jon up with a kiss or an unimpressed cough but he spends enough time dithering that something about his presence triggers Jon's spooky extra-awareness and he flutters his long eyelashes awake with a small smile.

'Wasn't really sleeping.' He lies. Ruins it with a yawn.

'Mm, sure.' Martin can't help it, he kneels by the sofa and kisses Jon who lets out a sleepy hum of contentment. He hooks a finger under the thick strap over Jon's shoulder and tugs. Jon's face tilts into grin. _Hah_ , it says, _you got me_. 'What's this?' Martin asks superfluously, pulling on the blanket to uncover Jon's body. Jon's grin widens.

They've not -

Martin wasn't really sure they ever would be the kind of couple that would share clothes. No matter how many Januaries he spent eyeing Jon's shivering form at his desk and wishing he could just layer some thick knit over the top of him. The sight of Jon's frame in Martin's dungarees, rolled up at the bottom to make them fit, makes something warm and protective purr in his chest. Jonathan Sims, The Archivist, looks impossibly cute right now and it's quite difficult to be annoyed at him.

Martin clears his throat. 'Aren't they comfortable?'

'Oh, exceedingly.' Jon bends his knobbly knees and shifts his hips to highlight the range of movement. 'Excellent pockets too.' Martin smiles despite himself.

'You look-' Jon quirks an eyebrow, smirk firmly fixed in place. 'Oh, be quiet, you bastard. You know exactly how you look.' Martin's pink-tinged admonishment makes Jon tilt his head back with laughter. The sunlight from the window lands the long brown column of his neck, momentarily dazzling. 

'I'm sure they look better on you.' Jon murmurs. Martin blushes. Makes a soft _pfft_ of disagreement. Meets Jon's earnest eyes and blushes again.

'Hah. Well.' He clears his throat. 'Budge up, anyway. I have a lot of good cows to tell you about.'

**Author's Note:**

> title from corduroy dreams by rex orange county 
> 
> I have a few more ideas for these happy cottage boyfriends but I also have a lot of time on my hands and nowhere to go so please feel free to hit me up if there's anything in particular you want to read!!


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